Snow White: Harry Potter Style
by Vultaggio
Summary: Yaoi, implied sex. Half Harry Potter, Half Snow White. All twisted.


Snow White...Yaoi Harry Potter Style  
  
By Lorelel  
  
Disclaimer: in the far unforeseeable future...I own Harry Potter and the rest of the characters in   
  
the book. Sadly I don't now...so I am forced to put this disclaimer up.   
  
Harry Potter is copyrighted and owned by J.K Rowling. And no, she's not sharing.  
  
"..." dialogue  
  
*...* thoughts  
  
(...) My notes ::sarcastic snorting::  
  
Warnings: YAOI, implications of sex. And that's it. And oh yeah! If you like girly Harry's, go   
  
away. He's lean mean, and a jackass.  
  
Long, long ago. In a time period most people would call hell. Because there was no   
  
electricity, people didn't bathe regularly, and the words "Check out my fake teeth made from cows   
  
and sheep!" or "Awww! There goes all my teeth! Rotted right out!" Were spoken more than,   
  
"Mom? Where's the hog hair tooth brush? I need to shove it in and swirl a couple of times. I   
  
can't pick out the week old food stuck between my molars. It's bloody annoying." Thankfully, the   
  
bishounen of this story...and the other bishounen have been taught to keep themselves, and their   
  
teeth, clean.   
  
Really, you should be thankful.  
  
No I mean it  
  
They could've been dirty people with lice in the hair and ticks on their butts. Would you like to   
  
hear about them having sex?  
  
I didn't think so. Now on with the story.  
  
A woman with dark red hair sat under a tree. Lorelel doesn't know what kind of tree because   
  
she forgot, but she knows it's a tree. She loved sitting under this tree because it bore her favorite   
  
kind of fruit. It was sweet, and soft, and whenever she bit into it, its juices would flow down her   
  
throat in thick rivulets and dry on her fingers, leaving a lovely sticky mess she loved to lap up.   
  
Now isn't this starting to sound like porn? She also liked the tree itself. Unlike the bishounen of   
  
this story this woman didn't bathe as much, and this resulted in her becoming awfully itchy during   
  
the summer. She had made it a habit to sit with her back to the tree, so she could rub up against   
  
to relieve any itches on her back. It was crude and unlady like to scratch for a woman of her title   
  
to scratch her back. Usually she'd have a back scratchier, but she had watched herself scratch   
  
her back in a mirror with it, and found that she looked comical and undignified when she did that.   
  
So she decided to look not only stately, but also beautiful and poetic under a tree.   
  
It was a sweltering Indian summer in autumn, and the woman absolutely adored the tree. She   
  
rubbed up against the tree and sighed as she scratched her itch. She watched as chips of the   
  
bark fell from the tree and landed in a 'clack' on the hard ground. She froze and picked up a   
  
piece of chipped bark. It was darker than night, darker than the 5 day old mold on forgotten   
  
bread. (sorry, I can't be serious for so long XD) It reminded her of her husband James' hair. The   
  
dark color, more elegant than black, (aka another name for black) ebony. She smiled as she   
  
thought of having a child with hair as black as ebony...just like James. She ran to her husband to   
  
tell him of her revelation.  
  
" Ah, Lily! I can explain!" (giggle) She frowned at the mess. Lily was a neat freak, and   
  
she hated it when her husband left his desk unorganized. She looked up into her husbands   
  
brown eyes, and remembered what she came here for. She smiled as she embraced her   
  
husband.   
  
"Oh James," she whispered into his ears, "I want a child with ebony hair like you..."   
  
James smiled wide.   
  
"A child? Really? You're ready to be a parent?" Lily nodded sincerely. James smile   
  
turned naughty.   
  
"Well, than lets get a head start on this!" Much sex ensues, and Harry's origins are   
  
discovered.  
  
/////////////////////////////////////////  
  
It was a sweltering summer, and all was quiet. The breeze idly drifted through an open   
  
window. Suddenly, crying breaks the haze of boredom. Let's peek through the open window.   
  
Little boys and girls, cover your eyes! Ladies, let's go.   
  
Inside, we see a tired and bedraggled Lily holding a bloody mass of skin with chubby fingers   
  
and a...a tentacle sticking out of its stomach! It's a monster! Lily! Save yourself! The monster   
  
coos and Lily laughs and kisses it's blood matted forehead. A nurse takes the thing and dunks it   
  
in water. It cries out...and opens its eyes, to reveal glimmering green orbs. Oh, it's no monster,   
  
it's just Harry. Haha you silly people, jumping to conclusions like that!  
  
Fast-forward 18 years.  
  
ZZZZIP! (oo look at the pretty lights)  
  
"BOY! GET UP! SWEEP THE FLOORS! LICK DUDLEY'S BOOTS!" Harry snorted and   
  
rolled over.   
  
"NOW!" Harry's attempt at falling back asleep was dashed as his Aunt Petunia hammered on   
  
his door. Harry kicked off his blankets and sighed. He just loved waking up to his aunt's   
  
screeching voice everyday. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slipped on his clothes. His   
  
vision was blurry and he stumbled as he made his way to his small bathroom. He grabbed his   
  
wire-framed glasses and put them on. He looked at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his   
  
teeth. He was handsome, and he knew it. He had ebony black hair, and bright emerald green   
  
eyes. All the lady servants, and some of the men, swooned at the sight of him. Yes, everyone   
  
loved his beauty, but some people just didn't appreciate him enough, namely his relatives.   
  
"Ohr rook, ah's 'arry." Dudley spat out about half of a mouthful of half chewed food as he   
  
spoke. Harry winced at his cousin's unsuccessful attempt at saying, "oh look, it's Harry". The pig   
  
had no manners. His aunt squinted her beady eyes at him and turned her nose up. She signaled   
  
at a servant named Natalie  
  
"Give Harry the usual." Natalie gave him an apologetic look and handed him a bowl of grits.   
  
Harry swore he had malnutrition. Sure he was very well developed, (cough cough snort snort)   
  
but his skin was unusually white. He thought it looked feminine. A servant told him once that it   
  
made him look dead sexy. Harry had felt a little better, he was pretty tall and there was no way   
  
you could mistake him for a girl. But then again the servant was a guy, and he wasn't sure if that   
  
comforted him as much as if a girl had told him the same. Well, it wasn't as if he didn't enjoy the   
  
compliment, because he was gay. (Yaoi people! Yaoi!) He just didn't want to look like a girl, it   
  
would hurt his manly pride.   
  
He blanched as he took a taste of his grits. No matter how many times he ate grits, he would   
  
never get used to its bland taste. (weird) His Aunt Petunia was a very observant person. Her   
  
eyes were always roaming around the room, looking for anything she could spy on. Her long   
  
neck helped too, it craned over shoulders, fences, and anything else obstructing her view from   
  
some secret she wasn't supposed to know. She saw Harry shrink away from his grits and spit   
  
half of onto a napkin. She fixed him with a glare.   
  
"We give you a home after your parents got eaten by flying monkeys, and this is how you   
  
repay us?" Harry had always doubted the reason for his parent's death. Harry knew he wasn't   
  
the sharpest knife on the rack, but he wasn't THAT dull. He sat and ate his grits as his aunt   
  
berated him as she screeched. Finally, Aunt Petunia ended her scolding with a last screech and   
  
sat huffing in her seat. She fixed him with a hard stare. This was the sign to get out of her sight   
  
and to do his chores. Dudley smiled cheekily and skipped over to the pot of grits on top of the   
  
Dutch stove. Harry wondered if he had some sneaky plan, but then laughed at himself for doing   
  
so. Dudley couldn't be smart enough. Dudley picked up the black pot and pretended to trip over   
  
a nonexistent rock. (in the kitchen?) The pot landed with a big "gong" sound, though Dudley's   
  
resounding fart of fear made over powered it. The contents of the pot splashed out and   
  
splattered all over the kitchen. A small wave of grits splashed over Harry's shoes. Covering it in   
  
a gritty brown mess.  
  
"I was trying to help, but look at what I did!" There was a loud 'thunk' sound as Dudley's   
  
massive 300 pound body hit the ground. Dudley pulled his pudgy arms to his eyes and started to   
  
rub them as he cried. Harry knew he was faking. Dudley was making soft "ooooh ooh" sounds.   
  
When Dudley was really crying, he would make loud "WAAAH WAAH!" sounds and thrash his fat   
  
limbs around.. Aunt Petunia rushed over to Dudley, careful not to splash the grits on her shoes   
  
and dress.   
  
"Oh Dudley! I know you were trying to be helpful, oh my poor baby! There there, you were   
  
only trying to help, but you don't need to help next time." She cradled Dudley in her arms as she   
  
tried to console him. Harry mentally laughed as Aunt Petunia's hands were sucked under a layer   
  
of fat. Dudley was just that fat.   
  
"No need to do any of that torturous labor!" She stared pointedly at Harry and Dudley grinned   
  
and stuck his tongue out at him. "That's what servants are for."  
  
He sighed; he knew he would be the one to clean up the mess. He worried about how he was   
  
going to clean the whole kitchen, and still finish his other chores in time.  
  
But poor Harry, he was worrying about the wrong thing.  
  
Off in a cave, far far away, there stood an old man staring into a mirror.   
  
:"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who has the most beautiful green eyes of all?" He rasped out.   
  
The mirror flinched from the man's sheer ugliness. The man's only good point was his forest   
  
green eyes. The only thing that kept him from voicing this opinion was the fact that the man was   
  
dangerous, and was his master.   
  
"Off in a castle far away, a boy named Harry Potter has the most beautiful green eyes of all."   
  
The man's eyes widened in fury.  
  
"What! I killed the last with the beautiful green eyes genes, myself, 17 years ago!" (making   
  
Harry 18) I even killed her husband! The last Potter! How is this possible?" The man faced   
  
away from the mirror and sat down on the grimy floor.  
  
"I guess they had a kid?" The mirror asked hopefully. The man turned at the mirror, nostrils   
  
flaring. The mirror prayed to the good mirror god up above for mercy.  
  
"That's it!" The man started to pace the length of the cave. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.   
  
The mirror sighed in relief.  
  
"I'll just kill this one too! HAHA!" He raised one gnarly finger and grinned, showing yellow   
  
teeth and holes were teeth were supposed to be, but had evidently rotted out. He hunched over   
  
and rubbed his hands together.  
  
"And I have just the plan."   
  
Evil laughter rang through the cave, and bats ran into each other in their haste to vacate the   
  
site of a mad scientist in the making.  
  
"I am the the only one handsome enough to have the most beautiful green eyes!" The   
  
mirror resisted the urge to snort. The man took out a vial of amethyst liquid from the hem of his   
  
robes. (like pulling a rabbit from a hat!)   
  
"I may be ugly now, but I was quite the looker when I was younger." The mirror seriously   
  
doubted it. The man tapped the vial a couple of times and shook it up. He pulled off the cork and   
  
took a long draft of the purple potion. The mirror gasped as the man's teeth grew back. He had   
  
never seen his master with a full set of teeth! He then looked at his master. His man was no   
  
longer an old fogey, but a young man!   
  
"See, I didn't lie about that did I?" And he hadn't. The mirror shook his head.  
  
"I was Voldemort before, but now you see before you Wormtail (the mirror), me."   
  
Wormtail shivered as a creepy smile graced his master's face. His master leaned forward and   
  
narrowed his eyes.  
  
"I will kill Harry Potter." He hissed.  
  
"I should be have the most beautiful green eyes, for I am Tom Riddle!"  
  
//////////////////////  
  
oooooh! oooh! XD This took me forever to write, and as usual, it's not betaed. I think I've   
  
gotten over some of my writer's block :  
  
R&R!  
  
Oh and give me tips, I know I suck. 


End file.
